last night

so there's this kid in my building I met before, fourth of july, rooftop discussed burning man & drugs, he's a deadhead, tall, black, very dorky, dresses as proper deadhead with steal your face buttons and all

and it was his birthday yesterday, I talked to him and friends in the courtyard on my way to the bodega for some junk food, I returned in minutes, they were still there

I had found him a gift on the street of a pair of hologram cardboard glasses and I bought him a second of the weird bread pudding I had gone to the bodega for, a strange sort of syrupy treat

kid knows me, big ups me to his friends as mr burner, he's twenty-four, I'm fifty, wow that's half, I take some shots of tequila from the bottle in the courtyard while the smell of weed wafts in the air.

I excuse myself and retreat to my lair, they said they'd be in the common basement area for a while, so I figured I'd work a little more, spruce myself up, and join them

i found a proper gift #3 from my stash, a lenticular sonic the hedgehog coffee cup that I'd had for a couple of years, seemed a good fit, joined them in the basement and followed along with others to the apartment.

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I'm still alive.

don't feel like micropersonalblogging anyway, but just in case anyone is watching.


constant thread

I'll be going off to burning man in a few days, and I'm realizing that I'll actually have not one but two physical copies of almost every digital file that really matters to me, plus multiple copies in cloud.  Like my real work is on Github.

Just as I predicted many years ago.  So much of what matters is in the cloud already anyway, memory sizes have gotten so large and compression so good, if I was in a position to splurge I could get an SD card the size of my smallest fingernail, carry everything on it I actually care about, a lifetime of photos I never look at and all my business, with room to spare for a library of every book I could ever want to read and a bunch of good movies, TV shows and music.  Heck, my important videos are on YouTube anyway, I've just got the "originals" which are scarcely any more original than the YouTube file.
If I had kids, or I was in the business of making movies, or making lots of music, I might have more to worry about, but even music compresses to nothing.
Guess what?  In another 5 years or so, you'll be in this position, too, you'll wake up one morning and realize that your phone has a cache of piece of information you have ever cared about, every movie you've you've ever watched.
I got my Drobo so that I could expand almost without limit - but I also knew when I bought it I would never fully expand it, by the time I can buy and afford the 16 Tb it can contain, I will have pushed it all into the cloud and I'll just get rid of it on eBay, if I can find a buyer.
I have constant rotating backups of my main system in PENTUPLICATE, not because I need it, or because I have any fear of a drive failing (something that hasn't happened to me in a decade) but because I had spare drives lying around and it was only $20 to get a new enclosure and reuse an old drive.  I have more disk space than I will ever need, and enough for you too - got something you want stored?  I'll make sure it never goes away.
I have had a constant chain of upgrades from one computer to the next without fail for about 20 years.  I have a few tapes I could recover if I wanted to get the 80's back.

hit me

Transexuality is like having two aces and three queens, and throwing out the aces hoping for a four of a kind.  Instead, you get dealt a six and a nine.  You still have that three of a kind, not a bad hand, but you're probably going to get beaten by a straight.

A note I wrote to someone just now asking if I was ok

I'm doing much better than I was a few hours ago.
I was planning to stay in tonight, because I'm still broke - the gig has not come through yet; I'm assured that it will, I'm told I'll get a retainer this week, but of course I'm scared stiff that it won't.  I need to give my landlord about $3300 by the end of the month or I get kicked out.  I'm assured that will happen.
But it hasn't yet, I'm down to $200 or so cash on hand, so I was going to stay in, but then I decided around 1am to go out to a burner party at a loft nearby.
I hopped on my bike and rode over there, and danced and was... for lack of a better word, verklempt, overwhelmed with emotion at the feeeling of "being home"
I can't adequately describe to you what this is, but just try to imagine if you hadn't seen [your husband or children] or the grandkids for almost two years, had barely heard a word from them and then suddenly they were in front of you.  I walked around for like an hour with my hand pressed to my chest to contain myself.
and I came away from it knowing inside that everything is going to be allright, that no matter what, god damn it, I WILL go home this year, somehow.  And I think I will happen the right way - with money coming in from jobs and the september rent paid before I leave and caught up with stuff.
I don't know how exactly, but in the next six weeks I have to come up with at least $8000 worth of rent, $1400 for the IRS, and a bunch of other expenses - but if I get this gig, I should make as much as $18k by than, so it's very possible that may happen.  It's also likely that I'll get at least some of the June pay that [person] still owes me.
He's a good guy, I don't fault him for owing me, I understand the reasons why and I know he's doing all he can to get me paid... and I sure as hell don't want to take food out of his babies mouths, they may not be my own kids, but I will live on the street before letting them go hungry.
Still in limbo, but not feeling quite as shitty about that since talking to [person] this evening, I'm astonished that nearly all of the greats I was looking up to 30 years ago are damn near broke - or at best, they're doing so-so as professors.  I still have a chance.
I also have a very good lead with [company blah blah].  Early stages on that one, but fingers crossed.
So, yeah, still in limbo, but feeling way better than I did four hours ago since I spent some time embraced by my community.  I've been a hermit for so long, afraid to go out for financial and social and emotional reasonsand I just... forgot how... perfect and cleansing it is.
I do hope someday you can come to my city.  It will utterly astonish you and move you in ways you can't yet imagine.  Someday, please, please try to come.


the thing is, you talked about wanting a partner, and partners look out for each other

so here I am, in the place where one needs a partner, effectively lost my job, finances in a tail spin

the last two years have been just about the worst of my life... but if I had a REAL partner by my side, they wouldn't have been

where the fuck were you?  I could have had you spurring me on to excellence, to getting more work and better jobs, spinning my other talents into reality, you could have been out hustling for me to get my art out there, get me into performance, inspiring me to find clients and helping me sweet talk them?

but no, the minute I couldn't buy you every fucking toy you wanted, you were out looking for the next benefactor and leaving me with a houseful of slug you dropped off.  Emotional disrepair does not help get the other shit together.

I mean, we had our problems, I had my problems, whatever, but I thought we had just about worked them out when that slug was dropped on me.  God, what a fucking loser, he's selling his poly crew as "jesters" now, which basically means "professional asshole"

point being, you are in no way able to be a partner to anyone, just a pet.  Mars is more helpful, at least he only costs $50/mo.

we could have been amazing.  Maybe I'll go be amazing on my own, maybe you will, maybe not.  More likely me, because I see you going a whole bunch of nowheresville.

sex rx

I wish there was such a thing as a sex prescription.  A rec letter, like for weed.  Something like that.

Because I feel like the thing I need, at least one of the things I need to make me feel healthy, happy, and whole, would be to have sex one or two times day.  Maybe three sometimes.  Let's call it ten doses a week, give or take.

And please, do not leave me to some bottom of the barrel ditch weed.  I think I deserve better, and this is why I do without.  I just can't bring myself to pay for it, and even if I could, I couldn't afford it.  From what I gather, that sort of thing costs about $200 or so per encounter, so we're talking about $8k/month, at least $1k for just the threshold of what I need.

Then there's all the social and spiritual evil behind that, the risks of disease, the law, of Guido the Killer Pimp.  No thank you.  I would rather starve than be responsible for putting another human in that position.  I would rather not stick my dick anywhere it is not enthusiastically welcomed.

And that would make me feel like shit anyway, like a charity case.  I would like that to come from a partner who wants me, or at least the sex, as much as I do, someone with whom I can feel like I'm giving as well.  I guess I could bend to some extent on that point, but I would at least like to feel like equals and not feel pathetic about it.

But there is no sensible way to go about that, and so I do without.  For most of the last year and a half at this point.

I just feel too defeated and rejected to make more than a half-hearted attempt with any potential partner, and I really haven't even met anyone since the monkey that excites me enough that I feel like I'm missing out on anything truly significant.

It's not even just the intercourse itself, even, it's the touching and cuddling and kissing and all that stuff.  The sleeping together.  You don't get that stuff when you pay for it, or so I gather, at least not without paying a lot more.

I need it like a drug, and I don't mean in the sense of addiction and getting high, I mean drug in the sense of medicine.  But without the context of a partner that I can connect with and care about, if it was some sort of "exchange," it would just be disgusting and disheartening.

I just feel like - and perhaps I am deluding myself - if I had that, so many things in my life would be easier.  I would find it easier to get up and get inspired to do my work.  I would find it much easier to do without the drugs and cigarettes.  Perhaps not entirely abstaining from them, but not needing so much at least.  I think I would be able to get out and get some exercise.

You know, it just occurred to me two nights ago, I've been living downtown for something like six years and it has never occurred to me once to look up dance classes downtown.  I'm starting to look now, and maybe I can find some ballet classes within a reasonable bus distance of my home.

I just feel so dead and hopeless without that.  I need someone to come along and fuck me back to life.  I certainly can't ask for it.  I don't know how, I don't think anyone would understand me properly, I'm quite certain I would be misunderstood and disrespected if I tried.

So.  I do without.

I don't think there's anyone reading this journal.  I can think of a few people who know about it who might be reading.  One or two might even be in a position to fill my prescription.


kunt kwote

I am preparing to embark on various forms of self-improvement over the next few months; some may be obvious, some more subtle.  It occurs to me that... Well, that this is nothing new.
I have always been and always shall be on a quest to better myself.  I will never be perfect.  The progress may be invisible at times, there may be failures, it may proceed in one area whilst it wanes in another.  But I will always be attempting to better myself.

I do not generally have nice things to say about the woman that raised me, but I shall quote her here, a pithy verse I heard her deliver frequently to gatherings of matrons, worthy and otherwise:

Good, better, best
Never let it rest
Until the good is better
And the better, best